Flashback Friday

Ignacio Romo Leon

10-20-36

to

08-24-1997

At his desk at the police department
His favorite place in the whole world, his ranch.

My 14th birthday party.
In this picture, you can see his cattle brand on his belt buckle. It was 4R because he registered it years before I was born. I was so jealous, I wanted him to change it to 5R and he couldn't because once you register a brand you can't change it.


My Quinceanera
11-19-1988


My Debutante Ball
04-1989
(yes, that is Buddy with me)

My high school graduation

My wedding

08-14-1993

My Daddy...

On this Friday, I find myself filled with so much sadness for the loss of my father. I know that I have posted on this before, but as I was looking through pictures for Flashback Friday, I came across so many pictures of him. I knew that I was meant to dedicate this Flashback Friday to him.

Now that I am all grown and have kids of my own, I realize that there really is no Cinderella and that prince charming doesn't exist. Not in the fairy tale sense of the word, at least. As a child, I really did grow up believing in fairy tales and that my Papi was my prince charming. I promised him to never get married and live with my parents forever. (I was about eight) By the time I was five, I was an only child. My sisters were out of the house and living their own lives.

My Papi was successful by the time I came around. And with only one child really, I was treated like a princess. Even my sisters will attest to this. Except I think they have another word for it. He was the most giving man I have ever known. He would give the shirt off his back and then some. He always helped the families of his workers. And my mom would buy them Christmas gifts and clothes. He even paid for two Quinceaneras for the daughters of his rancher. We would go to the poorest schools and he would give the children Christmas stockings and bags with fruit and nuts. I would go and help him pass these out. I used to cry on our way home. It would make me so sad. He was so humble and he cared so much about the people that lived in his region. He was President of an organization that provided lots to people so that they could build homes on. He was elected for back to back terms. He was also the assistant Chief of Police of the town. And had his cattle business.

My one regret, and I live with this everyday. I'm sure my sisters do as well. He had always asked to be laid to rest in Mexico, that was his home. We were selfish and wanted him close to us, so we went against his wishes and laid him to rest in Douglas. My mom let us make the decision and I wish I could go back and change it. On the day of his funeral, there were hundreds of people lined up along the border of Mexico waiting for the funeral procession to pass. We had said that we would do that for them at least. On the day of the funeral, the police did not allow us to go outside of the funeral route, and people waited there in vain. I'm sure it was all of the people that he had helped and were unable to cross the border to attend his services. That only went to show, just how much he was loved.

I think that I am who I am today because of him. I try to be as giving as he was. I don't know how to say no, because he never said no to anyone. As much as I miss him, I am sad for the people that never got to know him and never had help from him to realize their dreams of having a home, or working for him on his ranch, because his employees were like family to him. He had just hired a new rancher and his family lived in the ranchers quarters of the ranch. I'm sad for the little boys that found him in his truck the morning of his death. Sad because he would have been so good to them and now who knows how they live. His ranch still belongs to our family, but I have never stepped foot there again. I just can't, it would never be the same. It took me seven years to even ride a horse again.

Kai and Nachito,

I hope this answers a lot of questions for you, as you know that I have a hard time talking about your tata and I can only answer your questions a little at a time. And Nachito, even though your name is hard to spell and to pronounce, know that you are named after someone who would have loved you so much.